


25 MPH

by writingandchocolatemilk



Series: SpaMano Oneshots [10]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:09:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5252846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Any reason you were driving fifteen miles under the speed limit?"</p><p>"Safety?"</p><p>Officer Vargas frowned. "Yeah, sure. Willing to take a breathalyzer test?"</p><p>"<em>No</em>!" Gilbert stumbled out of the car. "That is a <em>bull</em>shit request! Because if you don't, Antonio—"</p><p>"I'll shoot you," Officer Vargas muttered, and Antonio wasn't sure he actually heard that. He doesn't think he was supposed to. "Sorry, do you want to take the test, instead?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	25 MPH

**Author's Note:**

> **Anonymous said:** prompt: Antonio is very drunk (with his two friends) and Lovino is a cop.

Antonio squinted out his window. The light seemed a little bright, a little unneeded. Then again, this whole situation seemed unneeded. Gilbert was seething next to him, and was muttering under his breath, pulling up the Constitution on his phone.

"Do you know why I pulled you over?"

Antonio honestly and truly did not. "Uh."

"It's probably because of your ass," Gilbert muttered. He realized what he said, grinned wickedly, leaned over Antonio to look at the cop. "It's probably because of the driver's fine, Spanish ass."

"Please control your hoodlum."

Antonio must have misheard. Gilbert, though, had perfect hearing.

"What did you just call me?"

The cop's light didn't waver. "I called you a hoodlum."

Gilbert was practically giving Antonio a blowjob he leaned so far over. "I swear to—"

Francis' hand reached out from the back and hauled Gilbert back into his seat by the collar of his shirt. "The last thing you need," Francis said lowly, "is another strike on your permanent record. You will be lucky to pass the bar as it is."

Antonio still squinted at the cop. "Is it because of my ass?"

"I'm going to need you to step out of the car. Just you, not the other two bozos. You get to be the lucky fuck who gets in trouble."

"This is illegal," Gilbert hissed.

Antonio glanced back at Francis, who shrugged. That could have meant almost anything, so Antonio guessed it meant 'Gilbert is drunk.' This was true, so Antonio unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door.

First this he noticed was that he was taller than the cop. The second thing he noticed was that the cop was scowling and still trying to shine the light in Antonio's face, even though he had stepped a few feet away.

"Any reason you were driving fifteen miles under the speed limit?"

"Safety?"

Officer Vargas frowned. "Yeah, sure. Willing to take a breathalyzer test?"

" _No_!" Gilbert stumbled out of the car. "That is a  _bull_ shit request! Because if you don't, Antonio—"

"I'll shoot you," Officer Vargas muttered, and Antonio wasn't sure he actually heard that. He doesn't think he was supposed to. "Sorry, do you want to take the test, instead?"

"Gilbert." Francis' voice, usually so controlled, is slightly blended, slurred. "Get back in the car."

Gilbert looked between the cop and Antonio, breathing hard. He slowly sank back into the seat, and Antonio tried a smile at the cop. To his surprise, Officer Vargas grunted and put the flashlight away.

"Safety, huh?"

"I'm the designated driver. Unless one of us stays sober, we spend all the cab money on more drinks. So," Antonio gestured at himself. "Here I am!"

Officer Vargas raised an eyebrow. "Sober as a church mouse, huh?"

"What?"

"You'd never heard that—it doesn't matter." Vargas shook his head. "Look, I need you to say the alphabet backwards."

Gilbert started to say something, but it sounded like Francis slapped his hands over Gilbert's mouth.

Antonio stared at Vargas, who stared back. The silence was awkward. Vargas leaned closer to Antonio.

"You're not saying anything."

Antonio felt his hands get clammy. "I, uh, I forgot."

"The alphabet?"

"Ah, English isn't my first language. I forgot."

"You forgot the alphabet?"

Antonio smiled awkwardly. "I can do it in Spanish."

Vargas shrugged. "I know Spanish."

"You do?" Antonio smiled. "That's interesting. I can't do it in Spanish, either. I'd need to sing through the song and then work backwards."

The cop closed his eyes, and Antonio could see him counting to ten under his breath. "Are you… Okay, okay, fine. Look, just give me your license and registration. You're obviously just stupid, so I'm going to let you go with a verbal warning."

"For what?" Gilbert had crawled over the driver's seat and stuck his head out the window. "He was being  _safe_  and you're punishing him for that? What the  _fuck_?"

Vargas looked from Gilbert to Antonio. "Do you guys  _want_  me to bring you to the station?"

"Yes—"

" _No_." Antonio stepped in between Vargas and Gilbert. "Look, he's drunk."

"He's disrespecting an officer!" Vargas said, voice rising.

"You  _deserve_  it," Gilbert mumbled.

"Move, I'm going to arrest your friend."

Francis stirred from the back, and there was a scuffle, a few curses. Antonio bent down, and Francis was now sitting in the passenger seat, Gilbert in the back. Francis winked at him, tossed his hair. Well, at least now Francis could roll up the windows.

"License?" Vargas prompted, running a hand over his face. "Give me your license and we can get this over with.

Antonio searched his pockets, kept patting his pants. "What's your first name?"

The cop's attention focused back on Antonio. "I don't think that's any of your business."

"They, uh, they have your last name right there." He pointed at the badge on Vargas' uniform. "I could probably find out more about you with your last name, anyways. Facebook. Twitter."

"Is that a threat?"

"What? No. No! I just…" Antonio blinked.

Vargas frowned. "I still need your license."

"I still need your first name."

Vargas laughed, and Antonio perked up. It was a surprisingly cute laugh, coming from a cop who had pulled them over for anti-speeding.

The smile still hadn't quite left Vargas' face. "I do need it, though."

"Ah. Well." Antonio nodded, slowly. "I seemed to have lost it."

The smile fell off of his face like a stone. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Someone must have nicked my wallet at the bar. I should probably cancel my Debit car. However, my name is Antonio. It's the same name on the registration. Francis. Francis! Get the car registration." Francis had fallen asleep. Antonio looked back at Vargas. "I swear."

"You didn't even tell me your last name!"

"You didn't tell me your first."

"Holy Jesus, it's Lovino!" Lovino hid his face in his hands. "I should have just left my shift. I figured, 'How much trouble could one drunk driver be?' And now here I am." He moved his hands so only his mouth was covered. "With you."

"I'm not drunk."

"Fine! Fine!" Lovino threw his hands into the air. "You get a warning! Don't let me pull you over again, or I swear to God, I'm going to skin you alive."

Antonio clapped his hands together. "Ah, thank you so much! I promise, you won't ever see me again." He sank back gratefully into his car. "You have a nice—"

Antonio was sure he had the car in first gear. But instead of rolling forward, back onto the street, off to his house, the car lurched backwards and slammed into Lovino's cop car.

"—night."

"Oh my God."

"It might only be a scratch."


End file.
